


A Hug To Save Them All

by Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Darcy Lewis is the fandom bicycle and I love it, Darcyland (Marvel), Demisexual Steve Rogers, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Skin Hunger, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, touch-starved Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 22:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12714399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness/pseuds/Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness
Summary: A man out of his time deserves a hug.





	A Hug To Save Them All

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story for my series of tropes. This one is Skin Hunger, or touch-starving and is set after CAWS. I also headcanon that Steve is demisexual in this, but it's not really mentionned in the story.

With everything that happened to Darcy these past few years, she thought nothing could surprise her anymore. She’d been chased by a giant robot, was almost killed by aliens, met real superheroes and was now living with them in one of the world richest men’s tower – rich man who loved to pull pranks and create inventions from scratch just to please his teammates. Everyone had an odd sleep pattern, Darcy had quickly discovered, and it was okay. She herself had to keep up with Jane’s habits, which meant being up and going at four in the morning, and it wasn’t odd to also find Tony or Bruce in their respective workshop and lab, sometimes even joining them.

So it didn’t really surprise Darcy when she stepped in the kitchen one night to make a new pot of coffee and to stumble upon Steve. He was stirring something on the oven, lost in his own thoughts. He was wearing sweatpants and a tight white t-shirt, the fabric stretched tight.

“Hey, can’t sleep?” She greeted him, and he made a sound of assessment. Something about him didn’t feel right, he kept looking down at the pot and his shoulders were so tense they probably could damage door frames if he didn’t pay attention.

Normally he would talk with her without problem, maybe even use some of that sass she was so fond of, but tonight he was quiet. She prepared the coffee machine in silence, throwing a few worried looks at him, but he didn’t budge from his position.

“Is everything alright?” She finally asked once she started the machine. She approached him, setting a hand on the middle of his back.

At first she wasn’t sure how he would feel with her being quite tactile with him, but over the weeks she realized he never complained. Instead he would always lean into her before retreating just as quickly, like he scolded himself for even wanting comfort. And yet, Darcy didn’t think anyone deserved more a hug than Steve.

He didn’t reply, but the way his muscles were tense under her hand proved how stressed out he was. He sighed, finally letting go of the whisk and watching the milk boil. 

When he didn’t answer, Darcy slid her hand up, her fingers grazing his bare neck. “I’m pretty sure your hot chocolate is hot enough.”

He turned the oven off, then Darcy grabbed a mug for him to pour the beverage in. His expression was haggard, like he’d lost something, or…

“Did someone die?” She asked him, and he looked up at her for the first time. His eyes were so sad Darcy wanted to hug him until all his worries washed away.

“No,” he finally replied. “Someone I thought was dead isn’t, but he’s… different.”

“Oh.” Bucky Barnes. She’d read the report, knew the Winter Soldier was Steve’s best friend, or used to be. Now he was a brainwashed Hydra assassin, and Steve had to fight him. Darcy couldn’t imagine how difficult it must’ve been. 

She bit her lip, then took his hand, big and warm. “Come sit with me.” 

He obliged her, following her to the living room in an uncomfortable silence that Darcy wasn't used to, with him. Their conversation always flowed quite nicely, despite what everyone might think of the man out of his time. 

He set his mug a bit too hard, and  frowned down at it. Darcy squeezed his hand. 

“So your friend didn't die?” She asked, plain and simple. He looked down at their joined hands, his thumb swiping across her skin. He shifted, pressing his muscular thigh against hers, and she let him. 

“He didn't. It's… complicated.”

“Complicated is my middle name.”

He huffed a laughter, looking at her sideways, then he sighed again, his mouth turned downwards. “Ever since I woke up, nothing's the same, and yet, Hydra remains and turned my best friend against me.”

She didn't know what to say to that. Everyone had mourning of their own, but Steve had a whole world to mourn. Even if he showed a tough facade in front of alien invasions and villains. Darcy wasn't about to make fun of him when he allowed her to see him at his weak.

“Would a hug help you to make you feel better?” She gently inquired, not knowing how else she could help. 

The fond look he gave her, almost shy yet hopeful, was enough of an answer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, gently pulling him to her, and he pressed himself against her, strong arms secured around her waist. He rested his cheek in her hair, and she smelled his cologne from the comfort of his neck. He was leaning against her, but she didn't mind. She didn't mind at all.

She felt his muscles relax as he melted in her embrace. He let her support him, if only for those few minutes. She stroked the back of his head, the short hair making her fingertips all tingly.

“You're the only one offering hugs, you know that?” He said, voice a bit muffled. 

“It should be mandatory, hugs for every Avenger in and out of a mission. Never thought of a collective hug?”

“I'll submit the idea at our next meeting.”

She chuckled, then hummed in comfort, at this point just leaning against the couch rest with Steve still hanging into her, like a giant handsome squid. “You should give more hugs, you're very good at them,” she mumbled after a beat.

He tightened his grip, turning his head so he could kiss her cheek, his lips as soft as his next words. “It all depends of who I give them to.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and if you'd like follow me on Tumblr, I'm Captain-Amoruca. :)


End file.
